


Restless Shepherd

by Mythonik



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending, Light-Hearted, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11670051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythonik/pseuds/Mythonik
Summary: Being a single father wasn't easy.Being a single father after an admittedly amicable divorce with your former spouse wasn't easy.But someone has to do it!





	Restless Shepherd

**Author's Note:**

> I need a little story full of Joseph interaction with his kids, and since I haven't seen one around, I decided to make my own ~~(also because I killed a kid last time and made myself sad too).~~ Mary and Joseph here are already divorced, with Joseph keeping the kids and house, Mary having visiting rights to the children, and her living a new life in a new environment for a fresh start where she actually gets help for her alcoholism. 
> 
> I should be updating W.o.D. but have this first. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

Everyday always began at 6:00 AM sharp with Joseph pulling himself, albeit begrudgingly, away from the warm confines of his bed to start breakfast. Taking care of his usual morning routine in his room’s attached bathroom managed to dispel the lingering grogginess from his head, so he wasted no time in donning the soft cardigan jacket he used around the house before slipping into the hallway.

Running a few mental calculations between how long it would take for breakfast to be ready against how long it would take for the school bus to arrive at their cul-de-sac, Joseph padded over to the nursery down the hall belonging to his youngest; and sure enough, tiny Crish was already wide awake, waving little pudgy arms in the air in an attempt to bat at the miniature stuffed animals hanging from his musical carousel when Joseph creaked the door open.

Happy gurgling and excited kicking welcomed Joseph when Crish caught sight of him in the doorway. Gurgles became loud coos the longer he lingered in his spot watching his son in amusement as he entangled his legs around his thin blanket. “Hey, little guy,” he said, wandering over and leaning against the polished dark wood of the crib, “you ready for breakfast?” Quiet chuckles slipped from parted lips when Crish gave one last indignant kick against his blanket and thrust his arms in the air, an unspoken demand to be picked up written all over his pouting face.

“Alright, alright,” Joseph mumbled fondly. He leaned over the rail and tucked his hands under Crish, easily lifting him up from his prison and resting him on his hip.

A quick glance towards the mounted wall clock let the blond know he still had enough time to start cooking before he had to wake the other children up; unless the smell of the food alone managed to reach them first, as was most often the case. He silently made his way down the stairs with an armload of a surprisingly quiet baby babbling and patting his cheeks, contemplating what recipe he should whip up for that morning.

Joseph had already sat Crish on his high chair and was busy pouring a flask of applesauce on a plastic bowl when pitter-pattering footsteps from behind made him look over his shoulder. A messy mop of tousled light hair, sleepy blues, and wrinkled flannel pajamas had him laughing under his breath as Chris trudged his way towards the kitchen table, head hanging low in lingering exhaustion. He pulled himself on the chair besides Crish’s high seat, blinking bleary eyes at his brother when the baby made to reach for his face.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Joseph whispered, placing the bowl of mush in front of his eldest and handing him an equally small spoon to feed the youngest with. He pressed a kiss against Chris’ ruffled hair, expertly dodging the half-hearted batting hand aimed at him.

Joseph plucked an immaculate pan from the overhead rack and set it over the iron stove top. “You want anything specific for breakfast, Chris?” He called over to the table, humming a miscellaneous tune to himself. Chris mimicked his humming and rubbed at his eye, the other hand hovering the applesauce in front of his little brother's mouth, who was too busy smearing the droplets that had fallen off it all over his own table to pay attention to it.

“Eggs,” he finally mumbled.

Chris was in the middle of digging into his second serving of scrambled eggs when the twins finally stumbled in, Christie yawning wide and Christian jerking awake every time his lolling head rolled onto his shoulder.

A chipper 'Morning!’ from Joseph earned him undecipherable grumbles from the pair. They crawled into their respective chairs and rested their heads on the tabletop, tangled and messy hair spilling everywhere over the polished wood, and only lifting them when their dad placed their own warm breakfast plates before them.

The family of five ate in relative silence. The older kids shoveled the fluffy food into their mouths, washing it down with glasses of orange juice and a slice of buttered toast. Joseph tried in vain to get most of the applesauce into Crish's mouth rather than around it whilst nibbling on his own toast; so far, his valiant efforts were being rewarded by Crish’s loud cooing and swatting hands trying to knock the spoon off his hands.

He finally admitted defeat when a good three-fourths of the mush was gone from the bowl and the rest all over the plastic table. Joseph wiped the toddler's messy cheeks with the throwaway bib and eased him out of the high chair after tossing the soiled tissue away.

“C’mon,” he called back to the table from his spot on the doorway, ”let's get you guys ready for school!”

Groans of misery and half-hearted grumbles of 'but I'm sick today’ managed to crack a few giggles from one amused youth minister.

 

* * *

 

Joseph was already standing by the front door with his children's lunchboxes on hand when they finally came bounding down the stairs. Pristine pink and blue clothing and tamed light blond hair were a must before any school day, and today he had found no harm in slipping a few extra cookies into each of their lunch packs for being so compliant during their post-breakfast routine.

He knelt down on the floor once they lined up into a short queue with their hands clasped neatly behind their backs. His only little girl was up first, wide eyes twinkling and smile lighting up her face.

“Please stop scaring your teacher, Christie,” Joseph said, mock stern voice goading a few giggles from his daughter.

“I promise,” Christie sing-songed, but her mischievous undertone left Joseph shaking his head. Eager hands closed around the handle of the offered lunchbox before she scurried away to grab her backpack. With one last roll of his eyes, he turned back to Christian.

“Don't repeat any of what Amanda's dad taught you to the principal again, okay? We don't need a repeat from last time.”

Christian grinned wide at his fake exasperation and took his own lunchbox, fleeing with his would be treasure and immediately tucking it inside his own bag to keep the extra cookies away from his twin’s wandering hands.

Before Joseph could impart yet another piece of wise advice upon his eldest, Chris beat him to the punch by reciting his customary “Don’t leave people outside and be nice to your elders.” spiel, complete with the worried, mother hen tone. The older blond glared playfully at the grinning face and grumbled in a stage whisper, “I do not sound like that, Chris Christiansen.”

Chris merely smiled, accepted his lunchbox, and darted away for his own backpack.

Joseph herded his kids back around the entrance, pressed a quick goodbye kiss to each of their foreheads, and swiftly ushered them outside to wait for the school bus. He waved his arm high in greeting at Brian, whose turn it was to wait with the children by the corner stop of the cul-de-sac for the bus, and watched his own trio scuttle across the empty street towards him; Joseph only stepped back inside when they reached the taller man and turned to collectively wave back at their dad.

 

* * *

 

“Well, Crish,” Joseph breathed, sounding weary far beyond his years as he took in the disaster zone that was his kitchen, “it looks like you’ve done it this time, sweetie.”

Crish burbled and happily clapped his sticky hands.

Two minutes was all it had taken him to run off to answer the phone in the living room, and two minutes was all it had taken for Crish to throw his milk bottle at the large casserole full of brownie mix, somehow upending the entire thing, and spilling its contents all over the island top. The thick chocolate splatters had reached as far as his high chair’s deck, and the baby had wasted no time in smearing the goop all over his round cheeks, his pale onesie, and even his tufts of hair.

Well, there went tomorrow's pastry batch.

Resigning himself to his fate, Joseph tugged the dirty yet smiling Crish from his chair and held him at arm's length. The toddler kept on cooing and babbling in his nonsense language as Joseph sat him down on the clean wood floor, giggling when he flipped himself over onto his stomach and tucked his pudgy limbs under him. The blond was trying so hard to sound every bit the stern father he should be to his toddler by reprimanding him gently, but watching said toddler roll around the floor trying to navigate on his own was proving to be a difficult adversary to that notion.

Fifteen minutes later and one clean kitchen, Joseph plucked Crish from where he had wriggled exactly three feet away from his starting point and perched him on his hip. The blond tutted and shook his head, deftly dodging the patting hands now reaching for the spiked ends of his hair.

Joseph swiftly turned on his heel and made a beeline for the staircase, throwing a fleeting glance out the kitchen window and smiling when he noticed Amanda and her dad stepping outside - more than likely going to the Coffee Spoon, he mused.

“Good thing I had already set your clothes out...” He trailed off, deep in thought now.

Maybe he could take Crish out for a nice walk around the area and conveniently "run into" the pair - no one would be none the wiser to his less than true intentions, anyway.

_However..._

He groaned loudly in misery like a lovesick fool and promptly received a chocolate pat to the cheek courtesy of Crish.

_I should ask Mary about this. She'll know what to do... I hope._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my brain vomit and all of the glaring mistakes in this, lmao.


End file.
